Reruns
by Julbie
Summary: Kind of trippy post S5 ficlet. S/B and S/D friendship.


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Reruns  
  
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Reruns   
  
Spike woke with a start and sat up in bed. Bed? Who's bed? I don't have a bed. Where am I?, he thought, disjointedly. He tried to remember the dream that had roused him out of sleep but couldn't. He just knew that it was about something terribly unpleasant. He blinked sleep away and focused on his surroundings. The room had a very familiar feel to it. Just as recognition slowly washed over him, he heard a voice come from beside him.  
  
"Whasamatter?" The voice was half muffled by the pillow.  
  
He recognized that voice just as he'd recognized the room... but...  
  
Spike turned very slowly and froze when he saw her-- it was Buffy, lying next to him in bed. He could only see part of her face under disheveled hair, but for the first time he became aware of her scent. It was her, but that was impossible.   
  
"Buffy?" Spike tried.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I..." What was there to say? Spike fell silent.  
  
After a moment, Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him. Spike exhaled heavily and then hitched a sob when her eyes met his. She was so beautiful and alive and her eyes were bright and full of kindness.  
  
"What is it?" She asked, putting a hand on his thigh.   
  
Her touch was like fire and he jumped at it.   
  
"Hey," she said softly, getting up on her knees and reaching out to hold him. "What's the matter? Are you okay?"   
  
How could she be here? She died over three weeks ago, saving Dawn. It had been the worst day of his entire existence. But now, not only was she alive and in front of him, but also apparently in bed with him. Why couldn't he remember how this had happened? He struggled for more words-- something in the form of a question, perhaps. But nothing came. Nothing that made any sense. But, as he felt her getting closer, he decided not to worry about what made sense and to just say what he wanted to say before he lost another chance.   
  
Before Buffy could put her arms around Spike, he grabbed her at the wrists and looked into her eyes. "Buffy, I love you. I love you so much."   
  
"I love you, too, honey... but what..." Buffy noticed the look of shock on Spike's face. "...Spike, what is it? You're really starting to scare me, now. What's going on?"  
  
"I don't understand this." Spike was shaking uncontrollably.  
  
"It's okay, I'm here," Buffy soothed. "Did you have a bad dream? Come here." She pulled Spike to her and held his head to her breast, stroking his hair as if he were a child. He could hear her heartbeat pounding at his ear. It was proof positive that she was, in fact, very much alive.   
  
Maybe it was all a nightmare, Spike marveled. The entire hideous mess could be chalked up to repercussions from drinking too much orangutan blood at Willy's Bar. That git Willy always tried to pass the stuff off as human blood and Spike must have been too drunk to know the difference. He'd make Willy pay for that one. How dare he make Spike dream the Slayer had died. Of course she didn't die. Our hero, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, never dies! With his help, and the help of the other scoobies, she defeated Glory and her Scabettes and then promptly fell in love with Spike and was now holding him at her breast because of said love. Yeah. That happened.  
  
"This is a dream." Spike said, quickly sitting up and looking at her. "That's what this is. You're not real and this is a dream and I'm not crazy. I'm just... pathetic."  
  
"Spike."  
  
"No!" Spike looked down at his hands, struggling to control the emotion in his voice. "Just let me wake up, damn it." Tears began to spill down his face. "I want to wake up. Please. I can't keep losing you."  
  
"Spike," Buffy said again, her own eyes wet with tears. "This isn't a dream."  
  
He let her place her hand on his cheek and she wiped away a tear with her thumb. She kissed the place where the tear had been before pressing her lips to his mouth and kissing him softly and lovingly. He sighed as she pulled away. It sure didn't feel like a dream.  
  
"You've been through a lot," Buffy said quietly, "We all have. But, this is real, Spike. Don't you remember when I came back? The first slayer said death was my gift, and it turned out that it meant I was going get another chance. Remember Willow found that prophesy in the Book of Margan? It had everything that happened with Glory written down and then had details on how to bring me back. Come on, you were there. Just remember." She moved to kiss Spike again but he pulled away.  
  
"I can't. I don't remember any of this. How did we..." Spike looked down at himself in bed and then at Buffy who was kneeling before him wearing a white silk nightie. Buffy followed his eyes and then smiled at him.   
  
"Are you trying to tell me you're surprised that I finally gave in to your wiley charms? With your ego?"  
  
Spike almost smiled. "I wish I could've been there to see it."  
  
"You will be."  
  
***  
  
What?   
  
Spike sat up with a start. He looked around wildly and his heart sank when he realized he was sitting in the same old drab chair in his old drab crypt. He must have dozed off while watching reruns on telly.   
  
He leaned forward and put his face in his hands. To say he was disappointed it was a dream would not be accurate. His heart was broken for the third time. This time, perhaps irreparably. When Buffy rejected him, it was bad. When she died, his world went with her. But to have that kind of hope, so realistic in his mind... to have it just ripped away in an instant, realizing it was a dream... That was beyond description.  
  
"Bad dream?"  
  
Spike jerked back, startled, to find Dawn sitting on a pillow at the foot of his chair. She had a bowl of popcorn in her lap and was flipping channels with the remote.  
  
"Yeah. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Nothing's on," she complained, not looking at him. "What was your dream about?"  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"Was it informative?"  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
Dawn decided on a channel and put down the remote. "This is a good one"  
  
Spike sniffed when he saw what she was watching. "Sappy romance. What good is it?"   
  
"Buffy likes this movie." Dawn turned to look at Spike. "You should tell them what she said."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About the prophesy."  
  
Spike felt as though he'd been hit with a plank of wood. Of course! It wasn't a dream, it was a vision telling him how to get Buffy back. He had to get to Willow and tell her about the prophesy. Buffy said it was all written down in the Book of Margan. He was sure Giles had it somewhere on his dusty old shelves, they just never knew what they were looking for.  
  
"Gotta find Willow." Spike said aloud.  
  
"Um... kinda still daylight." said Dawn, now almost completely engrossed in the television. "But you're into the heroics, so..."  
  
"Yeah," Spike said with resolve, "Yeah, I'm gonna do it. There isn't much time left."  
  
"No time like the present." said Dawn, no longer paying any attention.   
  
Spike gathered his courage and stood. He looked at the column of sunlight falling on the floor in the middle of his crypt and steeled himself. He would make this sacrifice, for Buffy. Spike turned and stalked toward the door in long strides. When he got there, he ripped it open and stepped out into the afternoon sun. He waited for the sizzling, the burning, the fire, but none came.   
  
"Hey, tough stuff?"   
  
Spike spun on his heel to find Buffy, standing in the middle of the graveyard with her arms folded.   
  
"Not that I don't appreciate the effort, but isn't this a rerun?" Buffy's back was to the sun, so she was surrounded with bright light and Spike could barely make out her face.   
  
"Buffy?"  
  
***  
  
"What?" she asked around a mouthful of popcorn.  
  
Spike was startled out of sleep. He looked at Buffy who seemed annoyed with him. "What?" he asked in a voice cracked with sleepiness.  
  
"What?" Buffy repeated. "You said my name."   
  
Spike took a minute to acquaint himself with his surroundings. He was in Buffy's living room, sitting comfortably on the sofa. So comfortably, in fact, that his feet were in Buffy's lap. He looked down to find Dawn sitting on the floor in front of them, a bowl of popcorn in her lap.   
  
"I said your name?" He was trying to fight his way through the fog. Something felt a little off.  
  
"Oh for pete's sake, just go back to sleep. I'm trying to watch a movie." Her words seemed angry but her tone was light.   
  
"He was dreaming about you." Dawn teased.  
  
Spike sat up quickly, swinging his legs out of Buffy's lap and planting them on the floor. He was starting to remember. "How did you know?" he demanded.  
  
"You just said her name, duh. You were obviously dreaming about her. Buffy! Oh, Buffy my dearest darlingest lovliest love, kiss me or I shall perish." Dawn put her hands to her throat and made a gagging sound. "Barf."  
  
Spike shot a look to Buffy and found her blushing furiously.  
  
"Knock it off, Dawn. I can send you to your room, you know." Buffy threatened. She was hyper-aware of Spike watching her, but could not bring herself to look into his eyes.  
  
"So? There's a TV in my room." Dawn said cockily, hands on hips and eyebrows raised. She looked at Spike to get his approval and became concerned. His face was a mask of confusion and worry. "Hey. What's wrong with you?"  
  
Buffy looked at Spike and noticed the same thing her sister picked up on. "Spike? Are you okay?"  
  
"I think I was dreaming. Or maybe I am dreaming."  
  
"About watching "Return to Me" on video with us? Even in dreams we've made you boring."   
  
"Dawn, shut up." Buffy waved her off. She didn't like when Spike was upset. She put a hand on his leg. "Was it a nightmare?"  
  
Spike jumped at her touch. "You died," he blurted out.  
  
Dawn and Buffy exchanged a look.  
  
"Yes, I did. And you helped bring me back. Remember?" Buffy spoke gently, trying not to upset Spike any further.  
  
Spike searched his memory. "The book of Margan?"  
  
"Right," Dawn helped, "You had that vision thingie."  
  
The memories came flooding back at once. Three weeks after her death, Spike had a dream about Buffy in which she told him about the Book of Margan. He told the scoobies about the dream, but left out the part about being in bed with Buffy, as it might have poked a hole in his already flimsy credibility.  
  
As it was, it took Giles a while to even try looking for the book. He didn't understand why the Powers That Be chose Spike for their vessel. It didn't help any when Spike said it was because he was so damned attractive.  
  
Since Buffy's return, she and Spike had slowly become good friends. But, occasionally, Spike still had the same dream and it left him wondering if the other part of it would ever come to pass. It seemed ridiculous at first, but now he wasn't so sure. No matter what happened, he was just glad to be in the present, where Buffy was alive and looking at him with kindness.  
  
"Okay, I'm awake now." Spike said, smiling. "It was just that dream again."   
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "You and that dream need to break up. I'm going to bed."  
  
She leaned over and gave Spike a kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Buffy.  
  
"Night."  
  
"Night, Dawn." Buffy and Spike said in unison. Spike sighed happily and Buffy smiled to herself. This was a nice little routine they had going.  
  
When Dawn was out of sight, Buffy turned Spike. "Are you ever gonna tell me the rest of that dream? I know you're keeping something from me."  
  
Spike couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm not."   
  
"Liar. Well, whatever it is, I guess I'll find out about it when it comes true."   
  
Spike silently thanked the PTB for the fact that vampires are incapable of blushing. He still felt watched, though, so he looked around uncomfortably for a while and then focused on the TV. "Hey, look, this is the good part."  
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "You hate this movie."  
  
"But this bit's really growing on me." Without looking at her, he picked up the bowl of popcorn and shoved it at her. "Popcorn. Yum."  
  
Buffy broke into a laugh and took the bowl from him. She set it in her lap, then picked up Spike's arm and ducked under it, pressing her head against his chest. Spike stiffened for just a moment, then relaxed his arm over her shoulder. He could smell the lavender scent of her hair and feel each time she giggled at the movie.  
  
This was no dream. This was heaven.  
  
THE END  
  
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© 2001 Death-Marked Love 


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